


Correspondence theory

by A_Splattering_Of_Paint



Category: Persona 5
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, M/M, references to past abuse, sexual self harm, terrible coping, the healing powers of curry, this is rather dark so please be mindful
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-06
Updated: 2018-08-06
Packaged: 2019-06-22 15:24:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,993
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15584883
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/A_Splattering_Of_Paint/pseuds/A_Splattering_Of_Paint
Summary: “Oh, fuck,” Akira grunted, actually flopping over him, his full weight on Goro. But he wasn’t kissing or touching or grinding or doing anything. He just buried his face into the pillow above Goro’s shoulder, and then turned it slightly so Goro could hear him when he said: “You look so innocent, but you’re -”Messed up. Crooked. Beyond salvation.Goro smiled, feeling the numbness take over slowly. Relishing in it.





	Correspondence theory

**Author's Note:**

> You know how the fic author saying goes: sometimes you just gotta sacrifice a night worth of sleep to stamp a fic out of the ground in one go.
> 
> For real, please mind the tags and take care.

Saying yes was so easy.

It did not require a single word spoken. Only a little smile, a certain angle of the body. Sometimes not even that. Goro did not need to put effort into it, did not need to charm. Not struggling was enough.

People were all too ready to paint what they wished to see all over his face for him. That part was almost relaxing.

Not to have to play-act for once.

The rest of it, not so much.

But saying yes was so vital. When he wavered, when he doubted. It only took another sleazy politician eyeing him like dessert behind a glass pane, waiting to get their hands and mouth on him.

The first time, someone had smashed through the glass. Nowadays, Goro made the pane disappear with a flick of his wrist, like a magician.

And after, he always remembered why the world should burn.

He always remembered what a blessing it was to make scum choke on darkness from the inside out. It wasn’t even that he turned them crazy, really. Goro merely used deft fingers to weave a rope from what was already inside them, so ugly and wretched, and they hung themselves on it.

It was justice.

 

\---

 

Being a part of the phantom thieves, if only for show and only another rung on the ladder he climbed to topple the tower his loving _father_ had built - it had shaken his resolve. The slightest bit, but he could not allow even a small fissure. There was too much at stake, too much he had sacrificed.  Some days, Goro found himself so lulled in by idiotic banter of these, these _teenagers_ , by standing at Akira’s shoulder and being treated as if he _belonged,_ by being hit in a fight and finding someone by his side who would notice and heal him right away -

It was making him soft.

Just his luck, then, that Akira had not been subtle about his nose pressed against the glass.

Goro had held back before, not finding enough merit in blackmail material, and nervous what it would mean for his future mission. But it was almost done, the bullet in Akira’s head scheduled and secured.

He wasn’t bad to look at, either - he was beautiful, if Goro was honest. And his own age. Perhaps it was curiosity, too, that drove him. Someone who was almost his equal, someone Goro had chosen over everyone else available to him.

Saying yes - it was easy.

Morgana was not around, he was staying at Futaba’s, and Akira’s words had been heavy with implication.

A coy smile and following him upstairs.

That was all it took.

 

\---

 

Of course, Kurusu  was not nearly as quick to the chase as Goro had come to anticipate his … partners being.

He spent enough energy on kissing that Goro wondered whether they’d ever move on from it, and he himself had to subtly stir them to the bed. Lay down, pull Kurusu atop him. It only needed a little bit of incentive.

Only a match to light the gunpowder trail scattered between them these past months.

Akira looked down at him, pupils blown, mouth half-opened and lips so slick. And Goro touched his cheek. He took off his glove as he usually refused, and he touched another’s bare cheek while lying beneath him, and he smiled up at Kurusu’s goofy little smile.

Goro had him, Kurusu was so gone for.

This was his masterpiece. Nothing would be left when this powder keg had gone off, and Akechi would breathe easier in the rabble, and count the days until he would get to make the light vanish from those warm grey eyes.

“Fuck me,” he whispered, voice demanding, but making sure he looked demure. A prize to be taken. All ready to get it over with.

Kurusu lifted his bare hand to his lips, changing the script. Breathing a kiss against Akechi’s palm. “Sorry,” he whispered, kissing to his wrist. “I got no condoms. Let’s start small?”

Oh. “That’s fine.”

Kurusu’s fingers tensed, and his brows furrowed. Goro froze, a reaction like that never promising anything good to follow once he was in the midst of _this._

“No, it’s not,” Kurusu said, staring at him incredulously. “I mean, I never - but I don’t plan to - it’s important to be safe, right?”

Goro bit the tip of his tongue so he wouldn’t laugh, shrill and hysterical. “Of course,” he rasped, hoping it would be attributed to him being affected from the kiss.

Apparently it was, because Kurusu relaxed and in turn so could Goro.

“Don’t worry, though,” he breathed, pressing his smirk against Goro’s wrist. “I’ve been told I have deft fingers.”

It was such a terribly corny line that Goro finally released the laughter lodged in his throat, and it didn’t sound half crazed. He should get an award for this.

With the option of getting fucked out of the window, Goro wasn’t going to let things go down the way Akira wished. “It’s alright. Let me do it for you.” He licked his lips and stretched them into a smile. “I’ve been told I have a clever mouth, you know.”

“Oh, _fuck,_ ” Akira grunted, actually _flopping_ over him, his full weight on Goro. But he wasn’t kissing or touching or grinding or doing anything. He just buried his face into the pillow above Goro’s shoulder, and then turned it slightly so Goro could hear him when he said: “You look so innocent, but you’re -”

Messed up. Crooked. Beyond salvation.

Goro smiled, feeling the numbness take over slowly. Relishing in it.

“You’re so good at this,” Akira sighed. “Honestly? I didn’t expect that. It’s a little intimidating.”

And just like that all breath escaped him. Goro licked his lips, numbly wrapping his arms around Akira’s back because it was expected to touch someone else in this situation, or they’d get upset. “What has the great Kurusu-kun to fear when I take care of him?”

“No, I -” Kurusu braced his hands to Goro’s left and right, abs working as he pushed himself up above Goro, gaze piercing and unflinching even though his cheeks were flushed. “Let me - I’d like to take care of you. If it’s okay.”

“I -” Goro opened his mouth to find the words, but he had no lines for this kind of script. “It’s really fine …”

“It’s not an altruistic wish,” Kurusu promised, voice dropping. He lowered his body down again slowly, kissed Goro’s neck.

This was easier, Goro only had to arch into it. “It’s rather selfish, really. I want to watch you come undone thanks to me … I want to hear you, feel you - I want to … be the one to make you feel special.” His voice was so tender, and again Goro wanted to laugh.

Oh, if he knew.

What a naive little thief he was, after all. Special! More people had spent nights with Goro this way than Leblanc had customers in a month, and Kurusu wished to be _special_?

“Do your worst.” His self-restraint was only strong enough to keep the words from being wrapped in barbed wire, but it seemed to enough for Kurusu. He got into it, fast, and Goro felt almost benevolent - to let him have this before he died.

If this was his first time, he had been a fool to decline fucking Goro. But fine.

 

\---

 

The problem was, it was unbearable.

It should have been easier to do this with Kurusu, but it wasn’t, because he was being _terrible_ about it. His touches were featherlight and slow, and he kept stopping to trail kisses along Goro’s skin as if wishing to mark every inch.

And all the while he wanted to _see_ Goro’s face, and asked him things. “Does it feel good? Is this okay?”

He wouldn’t even take off Goro’s pants without _asking._ Goro was forced to say it aloud, say yes, over and over and over until his mouth was dry and his heart was racing and the numbness went up in flame. Left was a dull throb of panic starting in the pit of his stomach and a clump in his throat threatening to throttle him.

The softer Kurusu touched him, the worse it got. And the words. They were only lies, spun into glass, but their sharp edges pierced his skin and slipped beneath. Every touch opened wounds for them to slip in.

_Beautiful. Look at you. What a sight you are. Your skin is so smooth. You look so good when you’re flushed like this. I’ll make you feel so good._

Goro _knew_ Kurusu was achingly hard, he’d pressed his leg between his knees to check. But Akira made no move to get off.

And Goro could barely breathe, because this wasn’t how things were supposed to go, and this uncharted territory left him defenseless and vulnerable under Akira’s palms.

Kurusu chuckled as he kissed his way down to Goro’s hip, and trailed his fingers along the moles there. “Like Orion’s belt. A constellation on your skin, isn’t that nice? I’ve always wanted to touch the stars when I was young, but I gotta admit - this is pretty nice, too - Akechi?”

“Stop,” he gurgled, his own voice terrible and foreign. Goro had his arm thrown over his eyes as if that could hide anything still. “ _Stop,_ don’t touch me -”

He knew it wouldn’t do anything, but -

Oh. Kurusu drew away. “Oh, holy shit. Are you - okay? That’s a dumb question. I - I’m sorry. Did I do something wrong? I -”

“Shut up. _Shut up!”_

Goro took a ragged breath and pulled his legs in. Fastened his pants facing away from Kurusu. His arm was wet, and tears were spilling down his cheeks. All these gross pigs he had spread his legs for and it was Kurusu who _broke_ him.

He hadn’t even cried that first time. He’d just sat there in that hotel room until staff kicked him out the next morning and then he’d kept living.

What the hell _was_ this? “It’s not supposed to be like this,” he growled.

“No. No it’s not. Hell.” Kurusu scooted next to him, which only made Goro snarl. Miraculously, Kurusu backed off. “I won’t - I won’t touch you anymore. I thought … you said yes, but I - I shouldn’t have assumed, I’m sor-”

“I did!” Anger finally fed the flame enough to turn that dreadful pit in his stomach into something other than a liability that would drag Goro down and make him drown in his own weakness. “I told you yes over and over and over but you couldn’t stick to the _rules_!”

He shoved to his feet, hands shaking so violently that he took way too long fumbling his button and belt. But his mouth was still running, and when he glimpsed at Kurusu, he looked shaken and terrified, and that fed the vicious thing that made it easier to breathe. “You couldn’t just flip me over and fuck me! You had to make it some powerplay! Leave your mark! Special my ass! It was just a new way of marking your territory, huh?! Haven’t seen that one before! People usually prefer hickeys. Or biting, that one’s popular! But no, you had to leave a scar on my _mind,_ huh?!”

Kurusu looked stricken, which was satisfying, but Goro was way too shaken up to pay any mind.

“What are you talking about?” he asked, real fear in his voice. Goro had no idea what Kurusu had to be afraid of right now, after all Goro’s gun wasn’t with him.

“You heard me, or have you gone deaf in the last couple minutes?” God. He had messed up so badly, but he could save this. Spin the blame on Akira and he could never breathe a word to the thieves about this. It would be simple.

Of course it was Akira who mostly wanted to keep him in the group, but Goro would find a way, and if he had to blackmail every thief individually, keep them too scared to talk to each other.

Planning made him calm down. At least enough to put on his shirt.

“What do you mean, people?” Kurusu asked.

Goro barked a laugh. “Did you think you were my first? The only person I ever fucked? Sorry I didn’t hand you my virginity on a silver platter! Y’know, normal people appreciate someone who knows how to take it. But you’re special, aren’t you? Thieving around at night but playing goody-two-shoes with me now?! Don’t think I bought that act for a second.”

“It wasn’t an act,” Kurusu said tonelessly. He scrubbed his hand over his face. “I thought, when you - I thought you and I …”

“Oh, what is it? Do you like-like me?” Goro had to stop. He knew it. He was burning a bridge vital to his masterplan, he still _needed_ Kurusu. But he couldn’t stop. He needed to burn Kurusu’s heart out of his chest if his own refused to go numb right now. “‘I’ll make you feel _so_ special’. You just wanted to feel special yourself! And now you can’t handle it when I -”

“You were crying. You’re still - crying. Do you always cry, when - ?”

Goro laughed and it sounded terrible, but he was so beyond caring. “Still hoping to be special? Why yes, then I have just the best news for you. It was only you. Are you satisfied?”

Kurusu got up quietly, and padded down the stairs. Just like that.

“What, running now? With your tail between your legs? I expected more of you, _leader_!”

But Kurusu ignored him.

  


***

  


So Akira was crying.

That made two of them, then.

 

Akira: hey

Akira: are you still awake

Ann: yeah :)

Ann: not much longer tho

Ann: whats up?

 

He took a deep shuddering breath. Akechi was moving upstairs, but Akira wouldn’t let him past. Probably? He didn’t want to keep him, but obviously … obviously he was a danger to himself. Maybe.

How did anyone handle something like this?

 

Ann: akira? you ok?

Akira: no

Akira: you once told me you helped shiho

Akira: with … stuff

Ann: stuff?

Akira: after kamoshida

Ann: oh

 

Was he going too far?

Akira got up and walked through the dark café, flipping the light switch on the dingy little light in the kitchen only, and tied an apron around his waist. Took a deep breath and tried to forget what it had felt like, to be so eager to make Goro feel good and look up to find him -

He’d make curry. That was something his hands couldn’t mess up.

 

Ann: are you

Ann: should i come over? do i need to call someone?

Akira: its not me

Akira: none of our close friends

Ann: someone close to you?

Akira: yeah

Ann: fuck

Akira: yeah

 

He got the ingredients from the fridge. Readied the cutting board and slid a knife free with a satisfying ring of steel.

Placed it all on the counter.

 

Akira: im sorry to ask this

Akira: but do you have any advice

Akira: on how to handle this?

Ann. thats tough. i dont know the circumstances :(

Akira: sorry

Akira: i guess ill just cook

Ann: no wait!! Wait

Ann: just be there. I think thats good. and dont treat them like theyre fragile

Akira: he is fragile right now though

Ann: dont treat him like a child!!!! thats what i mean

Ann: shiho got REAL pissed me at me for that. like things suck but just

Ann: dont look down on him or be condesceding yknow

Ann: dont baby him. just be there and be steady

Ann: be the normal inmidst the suck

 

That made him chuckle weakly.

He could do that much. Curry was normal. And it didn’t suck.

Now the only thing he didn’t know was how he’d cope with the fact that it was - his fault.

 

Akira: im making curry now

Akira: its kinda my fault

Akira: by kinda i mean definitely

 

He was too scared to pick the phone back up for now, so he let it ping as he peeled the vegetables. Then he picked it back up.

 

Ann: akira :( dont say that

Ann: i know youd never do anything like that

Ann: not on purpose anyways

Ann: what happened?

Ann: akiraaaaaaa

Ann: jokerrrrrrrr

Ann: lemme comfort you

Akira: i asked him and he said yes and then he was crying

Akira: and then he said terrible things

Akira: ann i dont know who hurt him but i think it was bad

Ann: oh damn

Ann: just

Ann: just keep in mind it wasnt you who hurt him

Ann: you just hit a wound you didnt know existed

Akira: i think

 

He swallowed.

The noise upstairs had stopped.

Akira squeezed his eyes shut, tears dripping still, shoulders shaking. But he typed his message.

 

Akira: he wanted me to hit it

Akira: he wanted me to hurt him

Akira: and tahsts t he onnly  reson he

Ann: aw baby

Ann: thats sucks so hard

Ann: im so sorry

Ann: its not your fault tho

Ann: do you need me to come over? I can sneak out. ill be your ninja

Akira: he said only i mdae him cr y

Ann: that means you were different from those who hurt him tho

Ann: doesnt it?

 

It was easier to breathe, suddenly. Akira held onto his phone like a lifeline and forced himself to breathe deeply. In, out. In and out.

And then he heard the footsteps on the stairs. He hurriedly typed ‘gotta go’ for Ann, trusting she’d get it, wiped at his cheeks, and hacked roughly into the onion. Maybe he could pass it off, ha.

Goro came downstairs walking briskly towards the exit, not looking at him.

“Sit down,” Akira said, all leader voice. He’d put that on often enough even when he was hurt or scared or both. He knew how to be the normal in midst the suck. “I’m making curry.”

Goro faltered, but kept walking. Scoffed. “What? You think that’ll fix it?”

“Sit down,” Akira repeated. “I’m making you curry.”

Miraculously, Goro sat down. It seemed they were both equally surprised at that decision.

The tension was terrible. Akira’s phone chimed a couple of times, but he was a little afraid of ducking into the shelter of Ann’s words when in the middle of the storm he needed to brave.

So he just kept working in silence, trying to let the familiar motions soothe and calm him. Clear his mind.

It was Akechi who caved in the silence, which in itself was surprising. “I really don’t know what you expected,” he said, voice rough. He sounded so terrible. When Akira had longed to see him vulnerable and dishevelled, it hadn’t been at this cost. “You think someone like me would’ve gotten so far so fast without using some people around me?”

Using them.

Akira just kept concentrating on the ingredients. Akechi _had_ been using him.

But he was convinced that he had used everyone else, too. “Was it - adults?” Akira asked, throat feeling tight.

Akechi laughed, a terrible sound so far removed from his pleasant tv laugh. It sounded as if he was choking. “Is the phantom thief who does medical trials for the local doctor and lets her call him a guinea pig gonna judge me for that? Mmh?”

Akira felt his stomach twist. So it was true.

Akechi had said he has used those around him - but when had that started? He was so young. Akira couldn’t imagine it was actually that way. It was obvious who had used whom here.

Akira, when he had thought this was a requited thing, had tried to _make love_ and treat him well and Goro had called it a sick mind game. Just another mark of territory.

Akira didn’t feel like he’d be able to get down a single spoonful of curry. “You deserve better.”

“Funny. A lot of them said that.”

The knife knocked from the counter and clattered to the ground noisily. Akira crouched to retrieve it.

“Hit a nerve?” Akechi asked cruelly.

“Like a root canal treatment, yeah.” Akira yanked at his bangs and tossed the knife into the sink even though he’d be skinned alive by boss for treating the knives this badly. “I like you. You know? I do. I think you’re interesting. I was happy when I thought it was mutual. Really happy.”

“Oh, what a -”

Akira cut him off before Akechi could take another shot at his bared heart. “I would never ‘just’ fuck you. Or be unsafe about it -” With a sickening lurch he recalled Akechi so easily insisting it was fine that -

God, fuck. He felt nauseous.

“I won’t touch you anymore. But I still like you. I still want you to be safe and unharmed and - happy.”

“Think that tactic is gonna make me fall right back into your arms and -”

Akira whirled to face him, voice getting away from him. “Just because you’re trying to hurt yourself doesn’t mean I’ll let you make me do it!”

The silence between them rolled louder than thunder. Akechi’s expression was entirely open, truly shocked. Akira grit his teeth, seeing that one opening. No way to go but onwards with all he had. “Tell me, did you want that? Any of what they did?”

Akechi raised his chin in defiance, his expression pulling back beneath a mask of rage and arrogance. “I said yes.”

“Yeah, well,” Akira said bitterly. “Did you _know_ you could say no?”

Akechi pushed himself up from the stool so fast it toppled over. His breath was ragged and he almost stumbled over the stool itself, like a drunk man. “I’m going,” he forced out, and Akira hastily turned down the heat and rushed around the counter.

He couldn’t let Akechi outside like this. Akira had seen this before, with Futaba. Too often. This was something he knew how to assist with.

He went to stand in front of the door and Akechi stumbled back with a sharp gasp for air, eyes frantically searching for any safe place. Akira’s heart was breaking, but better in here with someone to keep an eye on him than out there running through the streets, alone.

“It’s alright. It’s alright.”

“What is this?” Akechi asked, clawing at his throat, stumbling towards a booth. In the end he crouched under a table, making himself small, like a child. “What have you done to me -”

Akira crouched down at the door, out of Akechi’s line of sight, but close enough for his voice to carry. “It’s okay. Listen to me. You’re okay. You’re safe here.”

Hysterical laughter so broken Akira felt sickening goosebumps over his skin were his answer, but he did not falter.

“Breathe with me.”

 _“Fuck you._ ”

But Akira just did it. He breathed, loud enough to be heard, so Akechi could synch with him. And he spoke soft reassurances between. Halfway through, he switched to talking about the secret curry recipe, then Morgana shedding on his school uniform, the newspaper club at his school, a crossword puzzle.. When Akechi’s breathing had long quieted, Akira still found himself leaning against the door, arms around his knees, sharing all his knowledge about coffee beans and their origins.

“Stop,” Akechi croaked after a long, long while. “I know all this. You’re boring me to death.”

That got a tired smile from Akira. “Yeah. Hey, you want me to finish that curry?”

“After you tried to kill me?”

That wasn’t how Akira would put it, but fine. “No risk no fun, detective.”

“I’ll eat your damn curry if you never use those words in that order again;” Akechi quipped, tired and worn and the words hollow, but it was an attempt. He sounded far more like himself.

“Deal.”

So Akira returned to curry-making, and Akechi sat down in the booth with his head on his arms. Akira almost worried he was asleep, but he lifted his face when Akira carried two steaming plates over.

It was the depths of night and curry was always appropriate.

“Thanks for the meal,” Goro said softly.

Akira had never seen him look so terrible. It seemed he had been wearing make-up, before, which had rubbed off. There was some acne on his chin and nose, which was red anyways from crying. His eyes were puffy and he looked worn.

He looked like a teenager who had been hurt and used until he had to tell himself it happened at his own volition before he broke entirely.

But the curry tasted good. Akira had been incredibly careful making it, and it was a gentle, comforting flavour. Just enough spice to make it warming, but not enough for it to strain Akechi further.

“It’s good,” Akechi whispered, and teared up again, cursing himself quietly. “What the hell -”

“You seem to be leaking,” Akira supplied helpfully, hoping to get at least a snort from Akechi, who made a small, angry noise that had definitely masked a snort. “Don’t worry, I was leaking earlier, too. It’s what people with a heart do.”

“I do not _have_ a heart,” Goro muttered, which, okay, wasn’t ominous and ridiculously edgy at all, but Akira just smiled it off. “Evidence supports the contrary, detective.”

“You are insufferable,” Akechi said, but it was so soft that Akira’s heart fluttered.

“It’s my trademark,” he found his mouth replying, and Goro defeatedly slumped back over his curry, and Akira’s heart was still beating as if this was the right moment to be having a useless crush. Fact aside that Akechi was still very much planning to kill him, but one life-shattering truth at a time.

They both fell quiet, the atmosphere eerie in this big space.

When the last spoonful was eaten, Akechi pushed himself up with purpose, and Akira’s heart jolted.

“Stay,” he blurted, and before Akechi could say anything: “The trains aren’t running. You live far. Take my room, I’ll stay down here.”

“Down here?” Akechi asked, eyes sweeping over the café.

“The seats are cushioned. You can leave in the morning. But stay here tonight, where I know you’re -”

“Accounted for?” Akechi snapped. “Not jumping on the next -”

“Safe,” Akira said, knocking Akechi speechless.

That in itself was somewhat satisfying.

“If this is some elaborate ruse to -”

“ _It’s not about that._ ” Akira took up the plates and carried them to the sink, just to have something to do. Somewhere to put his frustration. “I’m not going to touch you again.”

“Oh?” Akechi asked, a spark of his earlier rage smoldering in his tired voice. “Isn’t that a little counterproductive for your crush?”

“I care for you,” Akira said, firmly. He took the apron off and hung it up. Turned and went halfway through the room to face Akechi. “ _I care for you._ If touching you hurts you, I won’t do it. Now go upstairs. I’ll get you some clothes you can borrow and then you can sleep.”

“Awfully bossy,” Akechi quipped, but considering that he did not fling anything else Akira’s way, he counted it as a win.

Akira followed only to get that promised change of clothes and a spare comforter, but Akechi huffed in annoyance when he moved to leave.

“Just take the bed. I can take the sofa. Don’t make such a big deal of it.”

Akira wanted to irritably snap back that he was _trying_ to be nice, but Akechi, apparently, wouldn’t have that. So Akira flopped down on the sofa and pulled the blanket up to his nose.

“Really?” Akechi asked.

“Go get some proper rest on a proper bed,” Akira grunted, his eyes burning worse when he closed them. He kept them closed, though, until Akechi’s steps had faded down the stairs. Akira wasn’t sure he would return.

Akira rolled onto his back and took out his phone, catching up with Ann’s messages.

 

Ann: sure

Ann: good luck

Ann: tell me how things go once you can

Ann: are you free tomorrow?

Ann: lets meet up

Ann: talk or distract you. I dont want you to be alone with this

Ann: im here for you okay?

 

He swallowed, hard.

 

Akira: thank you. I love you

Ann: awww i love you too <33

Ann: you okay?

Akira: yeah. kinda. were going to sleep. hes staying the night

Ann: good

Ann: good job!

Akira: really? cause i still dont know how to actually fix this

Ann: you cant

Ann: just be there. youre not a therapist akira. youre a friend

Ann: theres a difference

Ann: get some sleep. im about to doze off

Ann: but ill haunt you in my dreams if you take any more blame

Akira: what if i want that ;)

Ann: you wish ;)

 

He smiled, a tired thing that lifted some of the weight from his heart.

That was right. Sleep now, friend action tomorrow.

 

Akira: thank you

Akira: dream of chocolate cake paradise

Ann: mmmmmmh

Ann: nothin for

Ann: hope youll sleep well n well done for being there for your friend

 

He lowered his phone just when Akechi returned, and allowed himself a quiet rush of something close to joy knowing that Akechi had decided to stay.

“Good night,” he said softly, but Akechi didn’t reply.

It was only because his mind was still sifting through too many worries at once that Akira was still awake when, barely audible, Akechi breathed: “Did you mean it? That you liked me? How could you … ?”

“I meant every word,” Akira said, voice strong. The creak of the bed gave away that Goro was startled enough to flinch. “You’re worth that much, even though your jokes are terrible.”

“Charming,” Akechi muttered, but his voice sounded choked up.

He did not say anything else, but it was not long after that that his breathing evened out.

And at least for now Akira knew him here, and safe. And that had to be enough for the moment.

To the sound of Akechi’s even breath, Akira, too, found sleep eventually.

**Author's Note:**

> I think this was the first time Goro realised something was very, very wrong and he wasn't as in control as he thought. Sometimes the truth is more painful than what you learned to do to get by. 
> 
> Both of them need a world of support to recover from this, but I know they'll be fine eventually.


End file.
